Greed, Envy and, Lust
by krissyg927
Summary: Mac kidnaps a stranger and as the time ticks by, they end up in a struggle for psychological dominance. All the warnings apply to this story and also Mac might be just a little OOC, but not much and as the story goes on you do find out why he's different. Skip it if it isn't your thing, I know it's not for everyone. Rated Very Mature.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: ************PLEASE READ**********

Two days ago my bestie sent me a gif set of Mac on Tumblr and I was like I fucking love him and have been playing around with an idea for a Mac story. Mind you I had only the title at that point. Well, she egged me on as she usually does which is wonderful and I love her for it. (This was written for her and actually wasn't supposed to be seen by anyone but her. But stuff happens and she said post that, so I'm posting it cause I trust her opinion.) So two days later I have written a seven chapter depraved smut show. It's finished people. Now you know that's not how I roll. It just wrote itself. That being said, This is Mac. Y'all know how he is. Read or don't read but I'm just warning you and just going to say all trigger warnings apply cause This. Is. Mac. This is Red Canyon, it is not my fluffy Dary/Carol or Daryl/OC stories, it's not even half dark like "Transference" it's dark and twisted and I loved writing it. Thank you, Magenta. I love you for always challenging me and for all your love and support. This story is for you.

I am smitten,  
You know me, yeah you know me,  
I could be your Frankenstein,  
My crush with Eyeliner.  
Crush With Eyeliner by R.E.M

He watched her for months, that was the way he did things, it wasn't his first rodeo. He watched her so much that he knew her routines, what she did and who she saw. He knew where she went and on what day and why she went where she went.

He knew she was a nurse, drank too much coffee, was a vegetarian, didn't have a boyfriend and that she spent most nights at home reading. Mac knew that she went to Alcoholics Anonymous meetings twice a week and she had been sober for ten years.

Miranda was thirty-four and had gotten clean when she was twenty-three, the year she graduated nursing school, he knew everything about her life, that was what he did. His job so to speak.

She worked from 7-3 four days a week at a nursing home and was in bed by ten pm every night. She had no pets and no family that he knew of. She kept to herself and had one friend that came to see her once in a while on a weekend. No one would look for her if he took her on a Thursday night and he would have her for four days before he would have to get rid of her. Four glorious days before someone noticed she was gone.

The thought made him giddy with anticipation and hard as stone.

He'd touched her once in the street as they passed by each other, by his design because he followed her almost every day. Another time she dropped a book and he'd picked it up and handed it to her so casually; she never knew his intentions toward her and had said thank you to him. Thank you; and her voice was sweet to his ears, he'd make her scream and beg for mercy one day soon and that sound would be sweeter still.

The book had been The Great Gatsby and later he went to the library and checked it out.

He read it in a day and the next night he stood at the foot of her bed watching her sleep. That was the first time he broke into her apartment.

He identified with Jay Gatsby, a man who couldn't have what he really wanted. Gatsby was envious of others and greedy, lustful, and so was Mac. But there was a difference between him and this fictional man. Mac could have whatever and whoever he wanted, whenever he wanted.

He would have Miranda too, in good time, he was a patient man and he enjoyed the chase as much as he enjoyed the capture.

He went to her apartment a few times while she was at work and touched her things.

Mac touched her books, her makeup, and perfume in the bathroom. He went through her closet and drawers with care, so that she would never know anyone had been there. He went through her personal papers and read her diary, he read the poetry she sometimes wrote and committed it to memory.

In her bedside table, he found condoms, it was reassuring that she was careful, because he was not. He also knew she hadn't used any in quite some time, he had never seen Miranda with a man.

Between her mattress and box spring, he found her vibrator, and he made a mental note to come around more at night with the hope of seeing her use it on herself.

Maybe when he took her he would reach down under the mattress and take it too, it would be useful. He was not a stupid man, in fact, according to the IQ test he took in high school before he dropped out he had an IQ of 155.

He was not stupid and he never made mistakes and he knew the value of a vibrator if someone wasn't exactly willing.

There was a t-shirt in the hamper in the closet and he took it, he wasn't any panty thief; the reality of what he was did not go un-thought of though.

He knew all to well who and what he was.

The Nirvana t-shirt smelled like her and knowing that she wouldn't be home for hours he laid on her bed. He placed the shirt over his face and breathed in her scent like the finest perfume.

The smell of her made his blood boil in his veins and he stroked his cock thinking about her, thinking about his plans for her and it was all he could do to get off of the bed and leave.

Today was not the day, tomorrow was Thursday.

Before he left he stopped in the kitchen and drank from the open jug of orange juice that was in her refrigerator. He'd done that a few times now, the thought of her drinking something that had his lips, his mark on it almost made him cum right there. Mac replaced it just where it was; she would never know he had been there until he wanted her to know.

/

Miranda opened her eyes and was aware of a headache right away. Her vision was cloudy and she was dizzy. She could hear that song playing somewhere in the house, the music was too loud and she didn't remember turning on the stereo.

(((((((Big shake on the boxcar moving  
Big shake to the land that's falling down  
Is a wind makes a palm stop blowing  
A big, big stone fall and break my crown.))))))

The last thing she remembered was opening her front door at nine pm on Thursday after her AA meeting. She didn't remember going to bed at all and was acutely aware that she had to pee. She felt like she was hungover, but she knew there was no way. She didn't slip, she wouldn't.

Miranda attempted to wipe her hair out of her face, and could only get her hand halfway to her face and there was a clanking noise. She held her hand out and that was when she realized she was tied down to the bed somehow. Her right hand had a handcuff on it that led up to the post of the bed, and then she saw it was the same with her left. She lay there for a minute trying to catch her breath.

It was a dream, that was all, she closed her eyes, then opened them again and it was the same, she pulled her feet up as panic started to rise in her chest. Her feet were bound the same way.

Here Comes Your Man, that was the fucking song she could hear, god dammit what had happened to her. The Pixies blared through this place she was in as she shook her head in denial. Her hands and feet were chained to a bed, she could move a little bit but not much, she pulled her hands and feet in an attempt to get free and it was useless. The noise of her struggles made her head hurt anew, and she looked around the dingy room in a full-blown panic now.

((((((Outside there's a box car waiting, outside the family stew,  
Out by the fire-breathing  
Outside we wait 'til face turns blue)))

The reality of her situation slowly surfaced in her addled mind from the head injury she sustained and then she started to scream.

(((((((((There is a wait so long (so long, so long)  
You'll never wait so long.  
Here comes your man,  
here comes your man,  
here comes your man,  
here comes your man))))))))


	2. Chapter 2

_**Remember this is Mac, he's rapey and scary. And thanks for reading :)**_

She felt his presence before she opened her eyes, and it was an evil feeling, malevolent. Miranda waited for a beat and took a deep breath then turned her head to face whatever fucking mess fate had dealt her now.

Just a few hours ago she was leading her life oblivious to danger and now she was tied to a bed and was likely about to become some assholes lady suit.

"You're awake I see," He said as he leaned a hip against the door jam, he was shirtless with low riding jeans and she knew him, she'd seen him in town, in the park and in the coffee shop she went to. He was a scruffy outsider that she had seen sometimes, and she noticed right away the huge knife he had at his waist. "There's no houses or anyone around for miles so save your voice."

"Please, please," She whimpered as she looked down at herself, she had on a sundress and he had removed her panties, she knew what he meant to do, maybe he had already done it.

"I didn't rape you, not yet," He said as if he could read her mind.

Miranda started to cry and then he was shoving a water bottle to her lips. The water was cool and as thirsty as she was she didn't want to drink it, she wanted to die.

"Drink, you've been out for five hours, I got plans and I need you responsive and alert not fuckin dehydrated."

"I have to pee," She said finally.

"Drink the water first," He replied, "Learn now to do what I say."

"No, fuck you!" She rose up as far as the binds would allow her and spat the water in his face, that enraged him and he stood up and slapped her hard across the face. She tasted blood in her mouth after the blow and it infuriated her.

"You don't want water? Fucking fine, I got something else for you." He raged at her and left the room; it was then that Miranda truly realized the danger she was in. She knew what he had for her and she didn't want it. She had made him angry and he could kill her. She had made a mistake, and in this situation, a mistake could end her life, she wasn't fool enough not to know that already.

While she waited for whatever he had for her, she took a few deep breaths and quelled the anger and fear inside of her, they would do her no good.

If she was cooperative, maybe he wouldn't...maybe he just wanted...

He was back in a minute with a bottle of Jack Daniels and two shot glasses. He slammed them down on the table next to the bed and brought his face close to hers. She turned away, and he grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her head to his, they were eye to eye and he ran the bottle over her lips.

"Get ready to fall off the wagon Miranda." He leered, "Then I'll take you to pee."

/

After making her do three shots of Jack in a row with him he finally led her through the dump of a house he was keeping her and in to the bathroom. Miranda looked around as they walked through a living room of sorts and noticed it was still dark outside, there was a kitchen off to one side too. It was a small place, cramped and dark.

He had her by the hair, and when they reached the bathroom door she stood there until he shoved her down onto the toilet.

"Pee," He commanded.

"I can't if you're watching me," She whispered.

"Miranda, fucking pee right now, get used to me watching you," He said, "I'll be watching you do everything."

He had made her drink three shots of Jack in a row and two bottles of water, she was lightheaded, hungry, ready to cry, and half drunk, she was peeing whether he watched her or not. It was a mute point and not one she was going to stake her life on. Miranda sensed the situation she was in, he had been indifferent to her tears earlier, some people were wired that way and it would do her no good to try and get his sympathy. She suspected he lacked the ability to feel sympathy for anyone, there was no mercy for her here.

"Now," He pulled her up by the arm, "Back to your room, where I'm chaining you up again,"

Miranda didn't answer, there was no point, but she did dart her eyes around the house on the way back to the room, looking for a door and she saw it off to the left. It would be on her right if she was coming out of the room he had her prisoner in.

Prisoner, that was what she was now.

She sat on the side of the bed and he cuffed her one arm then laid her down and cuffed her other one.

"Can I have my legs free a little while?" She asked, testing the waters to see what she could get him to do.

"Yes, you can, that might come in handy," He leered again and ran his hand over her thigh noticing that she pulled her leg away slightly, "Get used to me touching you too, because I intend to touch you a lot and where ever I please, and you'll like it, you'll beg me for it."

She rolled her head to the side, and her dark hair was knotted behind her head and stuck to her sweaty forehead. Miranda let her hair cover her face and wished he would just get on with it. She was trying to psyche herself up for an assault and he just kept talking.

"Do you know why I picked you Miranda?"

She shook her head.

"Becuase you're intelligent and got great tits." He laughed to himself, "I love the smart ones, and great tits are a bonus."

Why couldn't he just do it already and be done, she didn't want to look at him and she didn't want to hear the shit he was saying to her.

"You don't know me..." She started and then he was on the bed next to her.

"Oh, but I do," He brought his hand to her hair and moved it out of her face, then gripped her chin and forced her to look at him, "I know what you need and I'm gonna give it to you."

/

The bed dipped as he adjusted his dick in his pants and placed the knife on her chest. He ran the blade down the front of her dress slowly, cutting it down the middle and kept his eyes on hers.

"I want you to listen to me Miranda, don't fight me. This is gonna happen. If you fight me I'll slit your throat. Understand. I'll make it hurt more, then I'll kill you, nod your head that you understand."

And she nodded.

"If you're good I'll get you off, I'm a reasonable man, you believe that Miranda?"

Miranda nodded, even though she knew she was agreeing with a lunatic.

"This can be good for both of us," He leaned in close to her and took her bottom lip between his teeth and licked her lip,"I'm gonna touch you. You'll like it. There ain't no part of you that I'm not gonna touch. Then I'm gonna fuck you. You're gonna scream my name."

Miranda didn't answer him.

"You don't believe me do you?"

"About killing me?"

"That's simple, if you're good that won't happen, if not," He touched the blade to her stomach and it drew a drop of blood, "You wanna get off don't you?"

She shook her head and her eyes followed his hands as they reached into the bedside table and took out a small bottle. He poured what looked to her like massage oil onto her belly where the blood was.

"You don't?" He said as he rubbed the massage oil and her blood over her nipples and watched them get hard. "I think you do."

He left her legs unbound, even though the cuffs were long enough if he wanted her bound, and sometimes he would, but she had asked to have them off. He had planned to have them off anyway so he could throw her around on the bed more, but he let her think she got one over on him. Mac loved a good head game, and to play with them like butterflies in a trap.

"See nice and hard, lovely really, I bet you're getting wet too."

He leaned down and sucked hard on her breast, leaving a deep purple mark on the side. Miranda gritted her teeth and tried to stop what was happening to her. The feeling, because it made her sick.

"You say you don't want it, but you do, your body does," He brought his hands over her breasts and pinched her nipples until she arched off the bed, "You want it."

"Fuuckkkkk," Was all she said, she could feel it, she was wet, and she didn't want it, didn't want him, "Don't."

"Oh, Miranda, it isn't up to you," He breathed against her lips and then he kissed her, shoving his tongue into her mouth, "Nothing is up to you, you'll do as I want, believe me. If I want you to cum, you'll cum like a good girl, you'll suck my dick and swallow my cum, every drop if I say."

"Stop it!" She yelled and then his lips were on hers again, this time he bit down on her lower lip hard, drew blood and sucked it into his mouth. Miranda didn't move, she wasn't giving him the satisfaction, but a tear slipped down her face, he licked it and then the other one from the other eye.

"Your tears are like my favorite wine," He licked her face, "You want some wine before I fuck you? Doesn't matter anymore does it, you lost your ten years now, do they make you give back the chip?"

How did he know about the AA chips? That thought was terrifying to her for some reason.

She struggled against the ties and he laughed, bringing his face so close to hers that she could feel his breath on her lips.

"Does it count as a slip if you didn't really want to drink it, what would your sponsor say?" Mac asked, "Or the girls you sponsor, or that creep who's been sitting next to you at your meetings lately?"

"How do you know so much about me?" She whispered.

"I've been watching you," He replied, swirling his tongue around her right nipple, "For eight months."

He took a swig of the wine he had sat on the table and wiped his face with the back of his hand. He toyed with telling her that he had sat behind her in many meetings, way in the back, unnoticed and heard her tell her story a few times, but he didn't, he'd save that to tell her later.

There was a time and a place for everything.

Miranda struggled as he took another sip and leaned down to her lips and she was already shaking her head but he pried her lips apart, set his lips on hers and pushed the warm liquid into her mouth. She had no choice but to swallow because he held her mouth open with his until every drop was down her throat.

The reality of this man hit her like a ton of bricks; eight months. He had been watching her for eight months.

"I told you," He held the bottle and ran it up and down her inner thigh, "You'll do what I say."

Miranda's eyes grew wide and when he saw that he smirked, knowing what she was afraid of. He loved when he knew what they were afraid of.

"Oh," He poured wine on her stomach, "I ain't gonna do that, were you afraid I was gonna..."

She closed her eyes, refusing to answer but he was right there growling into her ear.

"No, it's a god damn abomination to shove a bottle up that sweet pussy," He leaned in closer to her,"That's what my cock is for."


	3. Chapter 3

_**Thank you for reading, let me know what you think xx Krissy**_

Miranda turned back with rage in her eyes, "Just do it already goddammit."

She so was full of fire and she made his dick ache. From the moment he saw her months ago walking out of the coffee shop he had wanted her. He had to have her, and he had made it happen, he always made things happen. Keeping her till Monday was a must.

A few times while he was following her he had heard her on the phone with various people, friends and co-workers ect, she took no bullshit and was strong-willed. He couldn't wait to break her.

"Ask nicely," He rolled his eyes, "Say please fuck me, Mac."

Miranda kept her lips tight, again she would not give him the satisfaction. She still wanted to cry, but she had no use for tears, that was not the way to deal with him and live.

"I said say it!" He yelled and she pushed herself up on her elbows and looked him dead in the eye, he had expected her to quiver in fear. Not this one, she was different.

"Please. Fuck. Me. Mac." She repeated each word one at a time with attitude.

"In a hurry are you? Been a while since you had some dick, I know. Almost a year right? That's a long time, but don't worry, I got the cure right here." He stroked his hand over the front of his jeans, "Baby I'm gonna fuck you good," He crooned into her ear and reached between her legs, "Fuckin told ya so, you're soaked."

"No," She shook her head, his touch repulsed her, "Don't."

"I'm gonna take good care of that pussy before I wreak it," He pulled her legs apart wide, "Bet you' re sweet as honey too, I only got time for a little taste now," He brought his fingers up to his mouth and licked each one clean, "Fuck yes! That's the good stuff, you ready to cum all over this bed as advertised?"

"Don't," She said softly, even though she knew he would.

"Afraid I have to," He moaned, slipping his fingers between her wet lips, then back to her engorged clit, "Oh that's it Miranda, just like I imagined all those nights I jerked off thinkin of you."

Miranda pulled against the ties that had her arms, she didn't want him to do that to her, and he wasn't giving her a choice.

"Please don't" She whispered even as she felt the heat rising inside of her as he brought his fingers over her flesh. She shook her head as he pushed two fingers inside of her and worked her swollen clit with his thumb.

He saw her breath hitch in her chest and he kept at her, "Stop holdin it back," He brought one hand up to palm her breast, moving it slowly around, while the other continued assaulting her pussy with precision and skill, "Come on Miranda be my whore."

"No," She protested and closed her legs on his hand.

Mac rose up on his knees, yanked her dress up and spread her legs wide, drinking in the sight of her soaking quivering pussy, "You're already my whore." He said, and he moved his fingers against her again, crooked it around inside of her just right until she came screaming and writhing, bound to his bed, just the way he liked it, "You. Are. My. Whore, for as long as I want you."

He stood up and looked down at her, her skin was flushed and she was breathing heavy, his cock was raging now for her.

"Now get ready to take the first of many rides on Mac's American scream machine," He reached for the buckle of his pants and smirked at her, "Free of charge."

Miranda watched as he unbuckled his pants and freed his huge cock. He was going to hurt her, she knew that much and she closed her eyes, pretended to be somewhere else when he pushed himself inside her. It burned and felt as if he was splitting her apart but she did as she was told and wrapped her legs around his waist.

"Christ I never had such good pussy, your lack of dick is workin for me," He moaned and it was only later that she took the time to think about what he had said, "You're so fuckin tight, you're making me love you."

He filled her mouth with his tongue and fucked her hard, pulling her legs up and wide around his waist. She kept her eyes closed and mentally checked out, ticking through the things she knew already about what had happened to her.

This man had followed her home from her AA meeting or waited at her house because clearly he knew where she lived, hit her in the head and took her away. You read about these things but you never thought it would happen to you.

It had happened and all the years of watching ID TV was not going to help her at all because this man was way beyond anything she had ever seen on TV.

He knew everything about her, every little dumb thing.

He knew when she last had sex, he had watched and stalked her for months. Once again her body betrayed her and reveled in the feeling of being filled up with him. She moved with him, trying to get that good feeling just for a moment, in all this horror. She couldn't have hated herself more, even as she understood she had no control at all.

This was what she had to do.

"Say you own me, Mac." He demanded and reached his hand down between them to stroke her again and he could feel her responding, "Say it! "

He rubbed harder and felt her twitching around him, she was a fucking wet dream come to life. When she came she screamed, "You own me, Mac!" It was true for now, but she was not planning to be this psycho's fuck toy for long. Somehow she was getting away from him, she promised herself that.

"God damn right I do!" He pulled out and shot his load on her tits and smirked at her again because he knew he was good. She forced herself to look him in the eye and not be afraid. She would not cry in front of him either, ever, no matter what he did to her, because surely there was more; she would save that for later, for herself.

With a laugh, he smacked her ass, "Even if you don't wanna be you're a great fuck," Then he tied her legs back to the bed, tested the cuffs on her hands and feet and sat down next to her.

"You know Miranda," He lifted her chin to look at her, what he saw in her eyes wasn't fear like he expected, it was remorse. He had simultaneously violated her and gotten her off twice, and she hated herself now, he knew it, this was a process, mental and physical control took time." I once prevented a woman from being raped, wanna know how?"

She didn't but knew he was going to tell her anyway.

"I stayed home," He said with a laugh that told her it was no joke and it wasn't funny. Still, she kept eye contact, he was never getting the best of her, not while she was still breathing and had a pulse. From his pocket, she saw him take out a syringe and his hands come towards her.

"You don't have to do that..."

He jammed the needle into her arm and she was out.

/

She laid there for hours in the middle of the night when whatever he had given her wore off and tried to think of a way to get away. He had her trapped six ways to Sunday, it was obvious he'd done this before, he was way too cocky for a first timer.

Part of that was a relief, he wouldn't fuck up and kill her by accident, no, he'd kill her when he was damn good and ready. He made it clear he planned on keeping her around a while, but he would kill her eventually, Miranda knew that.

She thought of killing him, gutting him, of offing him with his own knife. She thought cutting off that dick he was so proud of.

It came to her just as sleep was taking over her; she had to make him trust her. She had to stay alive long enough to find his weakness because everyone had one. He liked the smart ones he said, and she would make sure he'd regret that.

She looked out the window and could see the full moon in the sky, it gave her a small fraction of peace. Silently she whispered to herself, like a prayer, "Keep your shit together, keep your shit together, keep your shit together."


	4. Chapter 4

_**Ok, so this might be going down the OOC road, but it is fan fiction and I want it my way. I have been told that while Mac is a little OOC in this, he's also creepy as hell, I love that , let me know what you think .**_

It was morning, she could see the sun coming up through the windows. There was music playing. He always had music playing, and she supposed it was in case she screamed. The music was some sucky metal bullshit that she'd never listen to if she had a choice, but her choices were gone at the moment.

His fingernails dug into her hips and he hadn't even untied her legs this time. She was exhausted since she hadn't slept much the night before. She felt like she was swimming in quicksand as he used her body like she was a fuck doll and then collapsed on top of her.

"I'll eat that pussy later baby, just needed a little bump."

The thought of him going down on her revolted her in every sense of the word. But she was forming a plan in her head.

"Can you untie me for that?"

"Nope."

"Can I take a shower first?"

"Nope."

"Please, I need a shower."

"No you don't baby, youre a smoke show already."

She shook her head, "You spuged it on my chest last night,"

He laughed, she just said whatever the fuck she wanted.

"Maybe, if your're good, We'll take one later ."

She turned her head away from him, experimenting with what she could get away with.

"You either take it with me. Or you don't get one. "

She flipped him the bird and still wouldn't turn her head to look at him.

"You're lucky I like the sass and fire."

He liked it, Miranda smiled to herself, this was the way she would get under his skin somehow, or die trying.

Mac knew he had a type. All the women that he had become obsessed with were brunette and petite, very smart.

But she was the first one who out right told him to fuck off regularly. She didn't quake in fear, he knew she was afraid, but she didn't show it. It made his dick jump just to think about it. Total dominance had always been his thing, but this was good too, verbal sparring made his dick hard suprisingly.

"I got somewhere to be," He said as he buckled his pants and reached for a syringe in his back pocket, "So you're getting a little bump too,"

Miranda shook her head, "I won't, I swear I wont try to..."

"Oh but you will..." He jammed the syringe and not her arm and unloaded half of it into her, "I know how you bitches are."

"What was that? Just tell me..."

" Heroin baby," He looked down at her, beautiful and subdued, he wanted her again but he had shit to do, he'd have to wait till later, "Just fuckin enjoy it." He said as he watched her eyes close and she nodded out.

He wiped his face with the back of his hand then jammed the syringe into his own arm and gave himself a hit.

/  
Friday night.

Miranda rubbed her wrist when he let her hands free then raised her arms over her head to get the blood flowing, he had been gone a long time and her body ached from imobility. There were red marks forming on her wrists and ankles even though the cuffs had a lot of slack on them. He had told her that was so he could toss her around the way he wanted to in bed, as usual creeped her out with that explination but she kept quiet.

As she scooted to the side of the bed he stopped her.

"Don't get up too fast. You've been off your feet for a few hours."

She waved him away, stood up and promptly fell on the floor like a rag doll.

"Told ya," He said scooping her up like she was nothing into his lean and strong arms.

"Guess you know from experience."

"Better you don't know the answer to that question."

"Are you going to kill me?"

Of course he was going to kill her. He always killed them.

"Not unless you make me." He answered, "You just be good and it doesn't have to go down that way."  
He was lying and she knew it.

"I'll be good." And she was lying too.

/:

There was music again as he led her into the bathroom, R.E.M, Crush with Eyeliner, once upon a time she had liked the song, had even seen R.E.M in concert and now knew she would never like it again. That was one concert shirt that was going in the garbage after she got out of this.

She sat down on the toilet and peed in front of him, that was the way it was now.

Mac pulled her ripped up dress over her head and looked at her for the first time with nothing on and licked his lips, she was sweet and his till Monday. Alarms would go off then because she wasnt at work, he knew she never missed work. They would know immediately something was wrong. She'd be gone by then, down the mine shaft with all the others, never to be seen again.

He had her by the hair as he pushed her to her knees in the shower and Miranda complied, she knew better. She had said she would be good, and she would be, until he fucked something up and she had a chance to run. He couldn't be that good at this, he couldn't anticipate everything, and then she would run.

I am smitten  
I'm the real thing (I'm the real thing)  
We all invent ourselves  
And you know me

"Don't get any ideas cause I will snap that pretty neck," He said as he yanked on her hair for emphasis, it was as if he had read her mind. This thew her off guard every time and made her question how she would ever get over on him. How could he always know what she was thinking.  
"No you won't, you want your dick sucked." The smart mouth he seemed to like was as good as anything.  
He pulled her face up to look at her, "Then I'll snap your neck after wards."  
She didn't doubt him for a second, but she had found out something today, he liked her fire and she had to figure out how to use that against him. Some how she was going to burn him for this, for all of it.

She's a sad tomato  
She's three miles of bad road  
She's her own invention (She's her own invention)  
That gets me in the throat  
What can I make myself be?  
Life is strange, yeah (Life is strange)  
What can I make myself be? (Fake her)  
To make her mine?

"Oh Miranda your the fuckin best," He groaned and unloaded down her throat and she looked up at him, men loved that and he was no different. Maybe he had never seen fuck me eyes before, it was possible she supposed. Maybe he had only ever seen fear in a woman's eyes.

There was a game she had to play here so that he didn't know what was going on in her head. Now she lowered herself to her lowest point and flirted with him but she was plotting his death as she sucked him off. She would make him weak for her, she knew how.

I am smitten  
I'll do anything (I'll do anything)  
A kiss breath turpentine  
My crush with eyeliner

He pulled her up and slammed her back against the tiles and held her there as he came down off the third best high in life, Meth and Heroin beat head by a landslide, the facts were just the facts. But getting high while he had her there was out of the question, a bump here and there was fine, but the only one who was gonna be high in this relationship was her. Then he pulled her to him, pushed her against the tiles again trapping her with his body and kissed her dirty and this time she threw herself against him and kissed him back with everything she had inside of her.

I am smitten  
I'm the real thing (I'm the real thing)  
Won't you be my valentine?  
My crush with eyeliner


	5. Chapter 5

"Thank you for the shower... uh, Mac? Is it your real name?"

"Ain't telling ya," Mac said, "When I let ya go I don't want you knowing who I am or where I am." He was so good at this con, making them think they were going to live through it. They would always smile if he said he was letting them go, Miranda just looked at him as if he hadn't said anything at all. It was a challenge to get the reaction out of her that he expected, he liked it. This verbal bantering with her would make him miss her one day, he kind of already did.

"Can't I call you something?" Miranda asked said sweetly, "Besides douchebag or rapist."

He tried to suppress a grin that was forming on his face, he didn't even want to beat her ass for saying that. She had fucking balls, you had to admire it.

"Just call me Mac."  
"Thank you for the shower Mac."

He took her hands and looked at them, ran his fingers over the red marks, then cuffed them in front of her.  
He'd given her a clean t-shirt, her Nirvana shirt that he had stolen and shorts to wear and she didn't ask where they came from.

"Hungry?"

"No,"

"Tough shit, Princess you're eating." He pulled her by the wrist to the kitchen table and sat her down, "Stay put."

He went to the fridge and took out a leftover steak.

"A little overcooked for me. But it'll do,"

He sat it down and began to cut it offering a piece to her.

"I know you don't eat meat, but you need protein or you ain't gonna make it here."

She still ignored the fork he held in front of her.

"Eat it!" He was mad and she knew she had pushed too far, back up Miranda, eat the fucking steak, make him happy.

She opened her mouth and ate it. Then she accepted a sip of water.

"Why do you care if I eat if you're going to kill me ."

"I ain't gonna kill you," Yet.

Miranda huffed, of course, he was going to, she wasn't stupid. As he took a bite off the fork for himself and drank some wine, she thought again about how to stay alive long enough for him to let down his guard or make a mistake. Then she would be in the wind, except from the looks of the outside, they were miles away from civilization.

But that was a worry for another day. Her worry for today was to make this pervert so happy that he unchained her.

"Told ya, I want ya awake and responsive otherwise I'd just need a blowup doll. Want some wine, Miranda?" He asked tipping the cup towards her, "What's it the lesser of two evils they say, maybe I won't have to jack you up tonight when I'm done if you're already drunk, cause that's what you are now, a drunk, again. "

That reality hung in the air between them, sobriety was gone for her right now, "Drink it why don't you?" Your drug of choice, right?"  
She sipped the wine as he instructed while he held the glass to her lips and ate the steak he fed to her because her hands were handcuffed in front of her, but in her mind, she had shoved the steak knife through his heart already. She was not a drunk, she hadn't been that for a long time.

"You know Mac," She said as she lifted her hands, made sure he was looking and slid them over her breasts, "If you uncuff me, you could...watch."

He stared at her for more than a second and she knew he was thinking about it.

"Nice try," He answered.

"Are you sure?" She slid her fingers back across her chest and over her nipple, "You said so yourself, I hadn't been laid in almost a year, what do you think I was doing all that time?"

Again he paused, she had him, she just knew it. Come on, take the bait, take it you dirty fucking pig. She smiled at him and it took everything she could do not to throw up during this fucked up reverse seduction she was attempting.

"I may have been born at night, but it wasn't last night."

"Your loss." She said with a shrug, he would uncuff her eventually, she had just laid some groundwork, he was thinking about it.  
After they ate, he brought her back to her room and cuffed her again.

"What do you feel when you see me coming? Tell the truth."

"Disgust."

"What else?"

"Anger."

"And?"

"That's it."

"No, it's not, there's something else; it's on your face, every time. You see me coming and you know you're going to get fucked good; you feel want, you feel desire."  
"I don't want to," She murmured.

"But you do, I know you do." He answered.

/

Mac lifted her shirt after he had her secured again and ran the blade over her stomach and she flinched.

"I ain't gonna use this an any in natural ways Miranda, don't fuckin panic alright, but how does it make you feel?"

"Like shit and why even ask me?" She was dipping her toes into the deep end now, letting him see a part of her no one saw. She had to now.

"Cause you want it and I know you want it." He continued down over her closed legs, "I get you hot in a way that maybe you don't like. But it's the truth just the same."

"You're trying to have the girlfriend experience aren't you?"

He laughed then, " A man doesn't have to tie a girlfriend to the bed. I'm well aware of what this is."

She shrugged, "Some do."

"Touché Miranda," He said, as he brought the blade back over her stomach, "You're right. But you're also wrong. This is about control. I will control everything; When you eat. What you eat. What you drink. When you take a piss, you see that now right?" He laid the knife on the far table and slid his hands between her legs, "And I'll control this because it's mine. Because I know you don't want it. Any of it. I could eat that pussy better than any man ever has before, I intend to actually," He grinned," But it wouldn't make you like me. Nothing would. But you'll get off if I want you to and you won't be able to stop it. " His words sent a deep sad chill through her, " A victim of your own biology."

" You're a psycho."

"I accept that, you're probably right," He answered casually.

"Why, did you do this?"

"Come on Miranda, would you ever look at a guy like me even once?" He slid his hand under the cuff of her shorts, " Because I can. Is that the answer you're looking for? Because I can."  
He was right about that, he could and so he did.

"Can't you untie my feet. "

"So you can kick my brains out while I got my face between your legs?

"My hands are tied. What would that do for me? You'd wake up and beat the shit out of me. Or if I managed to kill you I'd be stuck here like that dumb bitch in that Stephen King book."

That made him laugh, but he shook his head no. He had taken off her shorts before he tied her back up and now he spread her legs wide, as wide as the shackles would sound from the handcuffs as they moved across the bed gave her chills, in the bad way, like someone was walking over her grave.

"Lemme see what you got for me," Miranda forced herself to look at him, she had made it for twenty-four hours, she could make it through this too. No part of her wanted him to do this to her, especially something so special and intimate, but still, her heart beat wildly in her chest for reasons she didn't understand.

She felt his hand creeping up her thigh, and then he was whispering in her ear.

"Oh, that's what I like, so wet for me already."

"What was it you said? A victim of my own biology?"

"Throw my own words back at me all you want Miranda but then ask yourself why me holding a knife to your throat turns you on? What is it about a villain that makes you girls cream your panties the way you all do."

"I'm not interested in your philosophical ranting." Just get it over with.

"As you wish." He said and sunk his teeth into her inner thigh, "All business for miss Miranda."

Then he was all lips and tongue and fingers all over her pussy and she melted into the bed. This was what sexual enslavement was, how one person could control another, he was a mind fuck. Much more than just a guy who kidnapped women for his own nefarious purposes. She knew as he licked her with an unmatched skill that he wanted inside her brain, to crawl around and live there, to change her. He wanted every part of her and it was hard to resist, it was like he said, all about biology.

She could hate herself all she wanted for the way he made her feel physically, but there were more important things to focus on, she'd lived for 24 hours because she played his game. He was a pig and a drug addict, who reveled in the sound of his own voice, eventually he would make a mistake if she got him to trust her just a little bit.

"Do you wanna cum?"

She didn't answer and he stopped, she grunted in frustration and pulled at her arm restraints.

"Say it and I'll keep going."

Miranda wasn't saying shit to him, she wasn't begging for her life or an orgasm, he could forget it. He pushed two fingers inside of her and slid them over her clit slow as molasses.

"Say it, or I'll stop."

He slowed down more and she let out a deep sigh.

"Just say it and I'll put you out of your misery." He whispered darkly, and the meaning of that statement was not lost on her.

She didn't answer and he stopped again, moving his finger a fraction of an inch, she was right there, one more second,"Yes, dammit yes."

"Say please Mac make me cum."

"Please," She breathed out, "Please Mac make me cum."

"You're gonna cum so hard you won't know what hit you," He moaned bringing his hands and lips up to her breasts, pinching and sucking hard until she was moaning, and he got what he wanted.

He put her out with another injection that night and in the back of her mind, the addict in her came to life, she had never done heroin before, it was nice.


	6. Chapter 6

Ok. At the end of the chapter after shit goes down there's a part where Mac thinks about what happened. It wasn't the way he thinks it was. But he has no basis for comparison. I don't want people thinking that I think it was that way. It's his thoughts and as we know he's not the most rational person on the planet. What he thinks happened and what really happened are two different things. You'll understand at the end what I'm talking about. Message me if you have any questions. Thanks.

"How old are you Mac?" She asked.

"37," He answered.

"I'm 34," she said.

"I know." He replied and her skin crawled, she had to stop herself from reacting to that news, he probobly knew her birthday was coming up soon too."What do you do for a living."

"I'm in manufacturing.."

"You mean drugs then?"

He nodded, "Meth,"

"That's fitting. "

He had nothing to say to that.

"l have a game to play with you."

"What? Scrabble?" She asked, "Bet I can think up a better one."

Then she winked at him, he ignored it.

"Its called three words."

She listened but didn't comment.

"It's very simple Miranda. Three words to describe you. I'll start. You can sum me up in three words. Greed. Envy. And Lust. "

She considered this and knew he was waiting for her to answer him. He seemed to want to talk to her and hear her talk.

"So you make meth for the money. For Greed. And you Envy people who have real lives and..."

"I'm full of lust and that's why you are here." He replied and took another bite of the hamburger, "Now what are your three words."

"Why do you care?"

"Answer the question, just because I gave you some privileges don't go mouthing off."

"Privileges? Like my own goddam t-shirt that you stole when you were creeping around my house, fuck you Mac and your privileges."

"You know you made me realize I like a little sass in my life, it's hot as Fuck," Then he was in her face with the knife to her throat, "But I want those three words. You give me what I want." He pulled her hair back, "Three words that describe you, right now."

"Peace, sublime and solitude." He let go of her hair and pushed her head back.

"That's better, play nice Miranda." He said as he sat back down at the table, "Or I will cuff you again."

She didn't answer and he continued. He hadn't expected or wanted an answer. He had uncuffed her to eat and she had thanked him profusely. He liked that, her gratitude. She'd been there for three nights. He couldn't keep her cuffed 24/7.

"I can see that. You're a peacemaker. With the nursing and all and I imagine it makes you feel good about yourself. But Sublime, even now? In your current situation?" She just rolled her eyes and he continued, "The solitude, yes I see that. Cause you're a writer."

Her eyes grew wide then soft, in all the time he'd had her there she never looked as horrified as she did at that moment.

"You," Her voice cracked, "You read my poems,"

"They're very good,"

She wanted to cry and she fought back the tears. Because he was not getting her tears.

"And I read your diary," He leaned forward, "There's no secret you can keep from me. I know it all."

Miranda looked down at her plate of food. She's been vegan for fifteen years and sober for ten. He'd taken both away from her, but knowing he read her poetry and private writing was more of a violation than anything he had done to her body.

She reached for the glass of wine without him telling her to drink it and he smiled, she was almost there, almost totally broken. Now she knew tonight was the night she had to get control or die.

"Getting ready for tonight's fuckery are you? With your drug of choice. "

She drank the wine in one gulp.

"Why did you have to read it? " She looked him dead in the eye, "I want you to kill me now, we both know you're going to, I want to die now."

"Sorry, it doesn't work that way, I told ya I ain't planning to kill you ."

"And I know different, how could you not?"

"If I am? I control that too. You ain't gonna die tonight ."

"Why couldn't you leave something that was just mine, why did you take it all?"

"Because. That's what I do."

/

Miranda regained her composure soon after dinner and decided to just throw everything at him and see what stuck. She had nothing to lose at this point. There was nothing that he hadn't already taken from her. It was time to step up her game. There was only one thing she could manipulate him with. His ego and she was going in for the kill.

"Can you fuck without someone being tied down?"

"What?"

"Can you fuck a girl if she isn't tied down?"

"You sucked me off in the shower or did you forget that. "

"I said fuck Mac, can you fuck without the other person being tied down?" She persisted, "Can you? Have you ever tried?"

He didn't answer, he put the cigarette he had been smoking out in the ashtray and never took his eyes from hers.

"I could touch you then," She said as sweet as she could, "You aren't answering me."

"I'm answering you.."

He stood up and grabbed her by the hand and pulled her down the hallway.

/

When he got her into his room he pushed her up against the wall, his hands were all over her and he picked her up instructing her to wrap her legs around him. She did as he told her and pressed herself up against his dick and moaned for effect.

"Oh fuck me, that's good," He groaned, he'd never done it standing up, the feel of her up against his dick was mind-altering, "Touch me."

Miranda brought her lips to his and pulled his shirt up in the back and ran her nails all over him. She could feel him shudder, bingo.

She wasn't going to try and escape, he would expect that, this was the first time he let her be free. Tonight she was going to fuck him good, so good that he'd let her be free again, and again. She grinned at him, falsely, but he didn't know it, pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it over his shoulder. His eyes raked over her and she pressed her forehead to his.

"Take me to your bed." She said the words she knew would get to him, "Give me that cock."

He slid her down over his body and held her against him, he wanted to fuck her up against the wall, "You're gonna get it." He growled and she knew he'd never done this before, which was terrifying if she let herself think about it.

Then he backed her up to the bed and pushed her back, she landed on the bed and peeled her shorts off. After he shucked off his clothes he was on top of her.

"Let me be on top," She said reaching for his dick and running her lips over his neck, "I always cum so good on top."

"Don't push it, Miranda,"

"Fine, guess you're gonna have to work for it then."

"I look real worried don't I?" He said slamming his mouth down on hers.

She gave him the best night of his fucking life, he fucked her in the bed and up against the wall, he felt her lips in places no one had ever been before. He liked having his neck kissed and the feel of her hands on him it was all so new to him. It was dangerous, she was dangerous, he knew that, but he could handle it.

/

"Want a cigarette?" He said as he lit one for himself. They were laying in his bed, on their stomachs next to each other like lovers. It was his first time. He wasn't even afraid she'd try and put the cigarette out in his eye either.

"I'll share yours," She said and he handed it to her, watching her take a long drag on it.

"I still gotta cuff you tonight, you understand that right?"

He was explaining himself to her, she had done it. She had gotten to him. The way she answered him would seal her fate, she knew that.

"Well shit Mac, I didn't expect you to spoon me all night," She laughed and he laughed too.

"Finish that cigarette I wanna go again before you go back."

And that time he sat her up on the dresser and fucked her that way, his favorite was up against the wall he decided. Miranda Hopper had been his first consensual fuck, the first girl he didn't have to restrain somehow or threaten with a knife and he would remember her forever.

Notes: One more chapter. I love every one who has read this and left me kudos and love. This was so hard to write, yet I feel like it's the greatest thing I ever wrote. Let's not dig too deep about what that says about me M'kay. Xoxoxoxoxox


	7. Chapter 7

This is the last chapter. I know that it's long but it didn't feel right to break it up. I hope you enjoyed this story. I hope that I stayed true to the characters and that it was also believable. Thank you to everyone who read, reviewed and left kudos. You have no idea what it means to me. The feedback I got on this story was amazing and it warmed my dark little heart. Prompt me if you want more Mac and I'll try and do it for you. Xo

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

 **Chapter Text**

You are a lover in my bed and a gun to my head.

Ava Adore by The Smashing Pumpkins

/

She had gotten to him but he was in control of it.

He'd fucked her Saturday night with no restraints on and she had done everything he told her to do right down to scratching her nails down his back the way he liked.

It was risky, just like having her suck him off in the shower had been but he hadn't been able to resist. There had never been showers before and he'd never kept a girl more than a day.

He followed them and stalked like with Miranda if not as extensively; eight months was a long time. That was the longest he had stalked someone before taking them. Watching her, learning about her and dreaming of her, jerking off thinking about her had been a wonderful tease all those months. She had been different even then. Maybe he had known it all along.

They always cried and begged through the whole thing. It was tedious sometimes and a fucking buzz kill and after a couple of rounds, he was eager to get rid of them. Twenty-nine hours was his max with a girl, most didn't make it that long. Then it was over at his discretion. He was in control of it.

Miranda was a better fuck when she wasn't tied down, that was a fact and also at his discretion and she had made it three days. It was a shame that he would have to kill her on Monday, but it was what it was. Until then he intended to get everything from her that he could.

He rolled over so that she was on top of him and held her in place with his hands on her hips hard so she couldn't get the upper hand with him this way. But he wanted it, ever since she had asked the night before to be on top, he had wanted to know what that felt like. At first, he thought it had been a trick, but fuck it was worth it.

Miranda knew she had to keep fucking him the way he wanted, he had kept her untied during the day now and she wasn't about to fuck that up.

It was Sunday afternoon, she was still alive and she intended to stay that way. She looked out the window past the dingy curtains at the barren landscape.

As she moved her hips against his hard and ran her hands over his chest, she noticed that he had closed his eyes for a second. The look on his face had been one of pure bliss and he was almost beautiful. Miranda wasn't expecting to think those thoughts about him. She could snap his neck right now or at least try to choke him out, his eyes were closed, he was vulnerable. She didn't, she just looked at him, his features were soft, not hard like when he was terrorizing her. She was getting all mixed up and she forced herself to look out the window, not at him.

Mac probably hadn't had a woman on top ever, she figured as she looked outside for a vehicle in the driveway or other houses. His lifestyle didn't really allow for changing sexual positions when you thought about it.

She had seen keys by the front door on the little table the night before, all she had to do is grab them and run. He had closed his eyes, let his guard down, he would do it again eventually.

She would get him to do it again somehow, it didn't matter to her how; just that it happened. She would get those keys. Maybe she could hit him with something when he shot his load since she was on top. There was a lamp on the table right by the bed. She could, if she wanted to.

I'll snap your neck. He had said in the shower.

"Oh fuck yes baby, give it to me," He moaned reaching between them to stroke her, eyes wide open now, "Cum on me."

In one quick movement, he'd grabbed her hand and flipped her onto her stomach. Her face was shoved into a pillow as he pulled her hips up and impaled her on his cock.

One hand went back between them and another went to her breast roughly and she came as instructed, she came buckets with no way to clobber him. He had read her mind again.

Mac came harder than he ever had before and brought his arms around her waist and held her against him. It was amazing, having her in different positions was a treat since he'd never untied one before but he wasn't dumb enough to turn his back on her. She was beautiful and she was dangerous. He knew that all to well.

/

Monday

Mac wanted t keep her and her smart mouth around a little longer. She was a good fuck and gave as good as she got verbally.

It was new, different, she was the only woman that had the balls to mouth off to him. There was no crying or begging with Miranda. She had cried the first night and not since. And he had tried to make her cry, for the sport of it and to show dominance, she wouldn't cry, even when he told her about the poems. She had balls of steel and somehow he knew his admiration of that might bite him in the ass one day. But not today.

It was Monday, though, and she was supposed to die now. He wasn't ready for that, he would keep her for one more day, kill her tomorrow, or the next day, soon. But not today.

It was not the original plan but he wanted to fuck her some more, nice. Then he'd just jack her up with too much heroin and it would be over. He was capable of mercy. It was a surprise even to him, he would do that for her.

That way Miranda would never know what hit her, she would never know that he killed her. She would just go to sleep, a merciful death instead of a violent one.

Tonight he wanted, what did she call it? The girlfriend experience.

She was not and never would be his girlfriend, he knew that, but she made him feel good. She made him feel so damn good.

Mac knew intellectually that Miranda would never be his like that, even if he could play her body like an instrument under his hands. Even if they could have conversations together and share cigarettes in bed. Maybe if they had met some other way it could have been different somehow...

But they hadn't, they met because he stalked her and kidnapped her, and it was what it was.

/

Miranda actually entertained the thought that if she was good he'd let her go; that it might be different.

She knew it was foolish, it was a no-win situation for both of them. He was affecting her brain, getting in there like she was afraid of, making her let down her guard, think weird things. He knew how to keep a woman under control and compliant, he was an expert, she knew this already and yet... She had to be careful with her mind and so many other things.

She was sitting in the kitchen, and he was cooking something, so domestic really,and she looked across the table at him. He had uncuffed her during the day now until bedtime or if he had to go out, that was much more pleasant. He was much more pleasant and had such nice eyes; Miranda shook her head. The words Stockholm Syndrome flashed through her mind. Stop it. She scolded herself. Stop it. You have to find a way to kill him or at the least get away from him she told herself. This is not a love story, get a grip on your emotions.

"This is mellow for you." She said, with a quirk of her eyebrow. "Bowie, really?"

"There's a starmannnnn..." He sang along with the record and put the dishes on the table.

What had she done to him? He thought to himself Mac did not sing. Not Bowie anyway maybe Disturbed, Megadeth, but not Bowie.

"What? I can't listen to different stuff," He joked with a shrug, this was a nice evening, the nicest he had in a long time, "Felt like Bowie today,"

"It doesn't fit you really," She said as he sat down with two glasses at the full set table they had made for their dinner, "It's good though,I'm just surprised. Your music usually sucks."

"Cause it isn't that 90's grunge shit you like?" He teased.

"The eighties are over Mac,"

He grinned at that, "Just hand me the wine, Miranda." He said and in that moment she knew that he knew he had just made a big mistake. She stopped mid-reach unsure if she wanted to do this now. The change that came over his face was one of utter shock, he'd never made a mistake before. She had gotten to him somehow and he had finally fucked up, let his guard down. It was insidious they way it happened.

This was her chance, the opening she was waiting for, the stupor he'd kept her in with the alcohol and drugs was wearing off and she wasn't handcuffed, it was now or never.

He moved to get to her and she knew now it was over, he had seen her indecision over whether she was going to hand him the bottle and finish dinner or try and kill him. He came around to the other side of the table, but this time she was too fast. They stared at each other for a beat and then she gave him the wine alright, right upside the head, twice. Then she was running through the living room and out the door into the vast desert with no idea where to go or hide. She was still pretty fucked, but she was away. She ran as fast as she possibly could, ran for her life because she knew what was going to happen if he caught her. The air stung her lungs as she ran and the dust of the desert kicked up from her feet in a cloud that was almost blinding.

Mac got up after he was momentarily stunned, stunned that she had done that and stunned that he had let it happen. He wiped the blood from his scalp wound and gave chase. She wouldn't get far. There was nowhere to go.

(((((There's a starman waiting in the sky  
He's told us not to blow it  
Cause he knows it's all worthwhile))))

He burst out the door after her and it slammed back into the house a few times and that noise told her he was coming after her. Miranda ran faster and faster and her lungs burned in her chest. She could hear him coming and the fear welled up in her chest. She had fucked up and he was going to kill her now.

/

She was no match for him and he caught up to her quickly, took a flying leap and tackled her to the ground. They landed in the dirt with a thud and she started kicking and slapping trying to get away from him. She was little and wirey and he lost his grip on her once only to pull her back by the feet as she tried to kick him in the face. Finally, he got on top of her, punched her twice in her beautiful face, and it hurt him to do that to her. But that was what he had to do now. He knew that. She was knocked out, he got up and slung her over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes.

(((((((There's a starman waiting in the sky))))))

He brought her back into the house and swiped the dishes off the table that they had just set and threw her on it. She started to stir and kick at him to get away from her, but she was too dizzy from the punches. He looked down at her, she had fooled him into thinking he could have normal sex, a normal night, maybe a normal life and made him wish for things he had no business wishing for. He knew who he was and she had made him think he was something else, could be someone else.

((((((( He'd like to go and meet us but he thinks he'd blow our minds )))))

"You fuckin bitch I was gonna let you go."  
"You're a fucking liar Mac," She spat out as he ripped her at her shorts and underwear and she kicked at his hands.  
"I'm gonna fuck you till you die whore." He screamed as he spread her legs wide.  
"Fuck you," She managed to get a few shots in and gave as good as she got but in the end, she knew, it was over. But she would not go down without a fight.

"I knew I was dead the minute you said your name the first night," She yelled.

She saw it in his eyes then; hurt, betrayal and finally hate, she had never seen hate in his eyes before. It was the most terrifying moment of her life.

She had ruined it, all of it, he still couldn't believe he fell for it, fell for her. He rained blows down on her in anger now, but he was angry at himself most of all, he hit her all over her body with his fists until his fists hurt. But there was no relief for him.

Miranda fought him, ironically for the first time because now she knew it was the fight of her life. She got some punches in on him too but he was too strong. She was taking a beating and she knew she was going to die.

He yanked her shorts down and slammed into her hard and this time she screamed in pain. This time it hurt like bloody hell.

"You fuckin whore, you god damn fucking whore."

"Fuck you-you Fucking psycho, you fucking serial killer." She slapped her hands on his face but it was no use.

He slapped her again, "I was gonna let you live, I wasn't gonna do this ,why the fuck did you have to run."

Then he pulled the knife from the sheath on his waist and brought it down on her chest one, two, three, four times until he was covered in her blood.

"God dammit you ruined everything", He screamed as he pounded his cock into her and plunged the blade into her chest over and over again into her beautiful skin. Her blood shot onto him, all over his face, his arms and his clothes as he shot his load inside of her. Soon she wasn't moving anymore, he looked down and her and touched her hair, moving it out of her face so carefully. Something flashed over his body, he didn't recognize it at first, he didn't know what the feeling was. He had never felt it before. The emotion was so strong inside of him, it took his breath away, it was grief. Then he collapsed on top of her and held her close for a minute. Another song had come on, the R.E.M song from the other day and he laid there holding her until it was done.

((((((( I'm in like,  
I'm infatuated  
It's all too much pressure  
She's all that I can take  
What position should I wear?  
Cop an attitude, you faker  
How can I convince her, faker  
I'm invented too yeah))))))

"I'm sorry Miranda."

Mac pulled himself together after a few minutes, and wiped her blood off his face. This was how it was always supposed to be, he needed to remember that. There would be no grieving over some girl, he pushed her body off the table and it landed on the floor with a thud.

The steak was done and he intended to fucking eat it while it was rare the way he liked it. Then he would clean up, dump her down the mine shaft and then maybe take a walk.

"This is why we can't have nice things, Miranda," He said to no one, or her, he wasn't sure and lit a cigarette. She had made him weak and that would never happen again.

/

Mac sat on the bench in the park and waited. She always came at 11:30am because it was her lunch hour. She was a paralegal, he loved the smart ones and she was small and brunette, just like Miranda, but not her. Jodi would be his number fifteen and it would be different this time. Not like it was with Miranda.

She wasn't Miranda, he had buried Miranda in his backyard three weeks ago. In the end, he couldn't dump her down the mineshaft, it just felt wrong. She deserved to be buried, and a part of him that he wouldn't admit missed her. At night sometimes he wondered what might have happened if she hadn't run; if they had just eaten dinner the way they planned. He would never know and that ate at him daily. This girl's name was Jodi, he waited patiently and then finally he saw her coming, his next pretty girl was right in schedule . He grinned and decided to follow her home that night. He wasn't wasting precious time getting inside her head or learning about her first. There would be no more reading a book just because he knew she read it. He was done with that. It would be different this time. He had learned his lesson. He would never let his guard down again. It was back to the old rules because he was who he was, never keep one more than a day, never uncuff them, never let them under your skin.

Notes: Let me know what you think. Thank you so much for reading. Remember if you have a prompt give it to me and I'll try and write it. And remember to think of Mac every time you hear "Crush with Eyeliner" :)


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